


Thank You for Loving Me

by mukemas



Category: The Maze Runner (2014), The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Additional Warnings Apply, Depression, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Suicide Attempt, Trigger Warning!!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-10
Updated: 2015-04-10
Packaged: 2018-03-22 04:02:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3714226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mukemas/pseuds/mukemas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Hey, Tommy?” He mumbled against Thomas’ lips.<br/>“Hmm?”<br/>“Thank you.”<br/>“For what?”<br/>“For loving me.” </p><p>or the one where Newt is ridiculously depressed and increasingly suicidal, but with the help of Thomas' love and his sister's worry, he finds his way to a few good days again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thank You for Loving Me

**Author's Note:**

> yo yo!! I'd just like to point out the fact that I didn't give Newt's sister a name, because I genuinely couldn't think of one that fit the image of her that I had in my mind, and if we learn about her in The Fever Code (as rumored) I would feel bad if I got the name completely wrong. So sorry about that! Also there are tigger warings af in this (see tags) so if this is going to trigger you pls stay safe and don't read it!! Otherwise, I hope you enjoy!

It was dark. Deep gray clouds hung low and plentiful in the afternoon sky. The sound of violent rain beating against glass paned windows echoed through Newt’s bedroom. The area was nearly empty - all except for Newt lying forlornly beneath a suffocating heap of blankets. He hadn’t left his bed in 27 hours.

Naturally, Newt’s absence in interaction stirred worries within the young girl reading across the hall - his sister. Their parents were on a business trip for the next week and Newt was supposed to be taking care of her, but he hadn’t spoken to her in over a day. She had gone into his room a few times when she was hungry or needed help with a word in her book, but each time he’d appeared to be asleep and his younger sister never had the heart to wake him when he got like this. Though after a full day and night of dreadful silence from her brother, the small blonde girl marched herself into Newt’s bedroom and plopped down on his bed, crossing her legs in front of her. She was determined to get his attention this time, even if he was asleep. She knew it was bad for him to stay cooped up for so long.

"Newtie?" Her small voice came quietly, an afterthought to the overpowering sound of precipitation still pounding the earth outside. “Newtie!” She tried again, louder to beat the rain. She poked at the figure under the unnaturally large pile of blankets. Newt made a surprised noise at his sister’s tiny hand jabbing him in the ribs.

“What d’you need, love?” Newt pulled his upper half out from underneath the sheets, sending a wave of chills coursing through his entire body. He pulled himself onto one arm as to be at eye level with the little girl next to him.

“I need you to get up and start acting like my brother again.” It startled Newt how defiantly pained his kid sister sounded. He opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off before he got even half the chance. “You haven’t left your room since Saturday. Why are you hiding in here?” She sounded anxious. Newt sighed.

“I’m not hiding, sweetie, I’m just…” Newt sat up completely and swallowed the possible words clawing at his throat. _I’m just tired of being worthless. I’m just suffocating in my own self hatred. I’m just wondering why I’m still alive._ He couldn’t say those things to his seven year old sister. So he went with a simplified version. “I’m just sad, love. I’m just sad.” He pushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear and tried for a reassuring look.

“Why are you sad, Newtie?” Her face was screwed up in confusion; she hadn’t recalled anything happening recently that would have upset Newt.

“I don’t know,” Newt shook his head.

“How can you be sad without a reason?” She asked with a sense of intrigue, desperate to understand how her brother was feeling.

“I don’t bloody know!” Newt’s voice raised more than he had anticipated. He took a shaky breath and ran a hand through his disheveled curls. “Listen, love, you’re too young for me to try to explain depression to you. It’s just something about me you can’t quite understand right now, and that’s okay. I just need some time to be sad, alright?” He searched her captivatingly blue eyes for any sense of comprehension, but he only found more small befuddlement.

“How long are you gonna be sad? I don’t like it when you’re sad.” The girl pouted.

“How many times can I say I don’t know!” Newt didn’t know where his sudden anger had arisen from, but it was undoubtedly prominent, and all he wished was to wallow in it alone. He couldn’t drag his sister down with him, it wasn’t fair. “Don’t you see that I can’t bloody control this? I don’t know what to tell you. I’m sorry you’re stuck with such a shitty brother, but please, just leave me the hell alone!” His harsh words echoed through the almost-silence, and his stomach dropped with guilt at the look of pure hurt etched on his sister’s face. She stumbled off the bed and ran out of his room with tears brimming in her eyes before he even had a chance to open his mouth again.

Newt felt _terrible._ After a few endless seconds of staring blankly at the spot where his sister had sat just moments prior, the weight of his idiocy tugged on his tear ducts. In mere seconds, the sound of rain was replaced by the choked sobs of the young Englishman and he threw himself under the blankets once more. _What the_ hell _is wrong with me? What kind of fucked up shank yells at a kid for trying to help?_ Newt found it impossible to fathom hating himself more than he did then.

Newt’s sister was a clever girl, though, and she had stolen Newt’s phone off his bedside table upon her dash from his room. Once safely back in her own bed, she typed in Newt’s predictable password and hit the phone button. She scrolled through his contacts until locating the name 'Tommy' with various heart emojis sprawled after it. What a nerd. She clicked _call_. It only rang twice before Thomas picked up.

“Hey, babe,” Thomas spoke casually, expecting to hear Newt’s voice in return. Instead, he got the younger of the English siblings.

“Thomas? I need your help,” She spoke hopefully.

“Oh, hey, kiddo! What’s up?” Thomas made his tone a bit more childish as he became aware of who he was speaking to. There was a small pause.

“Newtie is sad.” Thomas’ heart sank a notch at the little girl’s words.

“Did something happen?” The friendly tint in his voice melted quickly into that of worry.

“I don’t know. He hasn’t gotten out of bed in over 24 hours. I went into his room to see if he was okay and he swore and yelled at me to leave him alone. Now he’s crying.” She sounded scared, unable to understand why Newt was acting the way he was.

“I’ll be over in five minutes, okay? I’ll come talk to him.” The girl could already hear shuffling on the other end of the line as Thomas began to pull on his coat and shoes.

“Thank you, Thomas,” She smiled a little bit, glad her brother had someone like Thomas.

“Anytime, sweetheart. Thank you for calling me.” She hung up, satisfied.

True to his word, Thomas was on the front step in mere minutes. He let himself in with the key he evidently had to Newt’s house before the youth could even reach the door. The girl rocked nervously back and forth on her heels as she watched Thomas discard his dripping jacket and kick off his wet shoes. She tugged on his arm minisculely to catch his attention when he dried his hair a bit on his shirt.

“Hi, honey,” Thomas smiled after finally noticing the girl. “Where’s your brother?” He asked, though he already knew the answer.

“In his room,” She took Thomas’ hand and began pulling him toward Newt’s bedroom, knowing that he could walk there in his sleep but anxious for Thomas to hopefully cheer Newt up, so leading the way anyway. Thomas swallowed nervously at her eagerness; Newt must’ve been bad to make her so jittery. Once they arrived outside Newt’s closed bedroom door, Thomas sunk to one knee as to look Newt’s sister in the eyes. He put a hand softly on her shoulder.

“Listen, sweetie, I’m gonna need you to give Newt and I some space for a bit, is that okay?” She nodded. “Sometimes Newtie gets very very sad,” Thomas mimicked her nickname for the older boy. “And I’ll try my best to make him feel better but it doesn’t always work.”

“How could it not work? Newtie’s always happy around you! He says it’s because he loves you so much.” She crossed her arms confidently. Thomas laughed at the last part.

“I love him, too, baby girl, but sometimes it’s just not enough.” That note seemed like one to end on for both of them and she gave him a quick _thank you_ hug before trotting off to her own bedroom to keep reading until Newt was better. She’d undoubtedly picked up the knack for literature from her brother.

Once the child had disappeared from his view, Thomas reached a hand out to the doorknob and gently opened Newt’s door before slipping inside and closing it again. He quickly spotted the fluffy blond curls just barely peeking over the top of the mass of blankets.

“Newt?” Thomas called softly, crossing the room in four swift strides to sit himself down on the edge of the mattress. Newt sniffled and said nothing aloud, though he lifted the layers on top of him, inviting Thomas under with him, and exposing most of his form to the brisk cold of the room in the process. His eyes were puffy and lined with crimson. He shivered, boxer-clad thighs not providing the necessary warmth for the rest of his bare body.

“My clothes are wet,” Thomas stated, as if it would matter.

“Then take them off, you bloody idiot,” Newt grumbled tiredly. “I’m getting cold.” Thomas shook his head a bit, obligingly stripping himself down to his boxers as well before crawling into Newt’s bed and sealing the heat in once again. Newt instantly felt Thomas’ protective arms snake around his waist and pull him into the dark haired boy. He didn’t deny the contact of the tenacious hold his worrisome boyfriend already had on him. He tangled his legs with Thomas’ under the sheets and shoved his face in the crook of Thomas’ neck. Newt felt the dizzying touch of Thomas tracing mindless circles into the small of his back, and he realised how much he’d missed human interaction since his initial isolation. Thomas kissed Newt’s hair before breaking the rain soaked silence.

“Wanna tell me what’s wrong?” It took a while before Newt built up his voice.

“Everything,” The blond’s voice diffused over the skin of Thomas’ collarbones.

“I'm afraid you’re gonna need to elaborate a bit, babe," Thomas prodded.

“Well, let’s see, I bloody hate myself, for starters. I want to die more than usual. I yelled at my seven year old sister for _no bloody reason_ because I am the actual worst brother on the buggin’ Earth. Oh, and have I mentioned how much I want to kill myself?”

Thomas swore his heart stopped beating at Newt’s last comment. His breath caught in his chest, and he could almost hear his stomach hit the floor, it sank so low. It seemed pointless to try to stop the immediate tears that welled in his eyes; hearing Newt confess such things sent Thomas rushing through a field of memories from Newt’s previous suicide attempt. It was a field he didn’t like to roam.

“Newt…” Thomas trailed. He moved himself down a bit as to look frightfully into Newt’s sadly serious eyes. “I thought I told you to call me when it got this bad again,” The few words were all Thomas could muster before his voice cracked obnoxiously and the first of many tears finally rolled down his face.

“Oh, no. No, no, no, please don’t cry. Don’t bloody cry, Tommy, I didn’t mean to make you cry, oh, God, I’m sorry,” Newt brought a hand to Thomas’ cheekbone in a desperate attempt to wipe his tears. “If you cry then I’m gonna cry and if I start crying I’m never gonna bloody stop, so don’t you _dare_ cry right now, Tommy.” He sputtered out, hot tears already stinging his eyes despite his best efforts to keep them at bay.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Thomas disregarded Newt’s request to not cry - he couldn’t help it. “What if your sister hadn’t called me when she did? Were you planning something?” The fact that Newt looked away from Thomas upon hearing the last question answered it for him.

“Tommy, I wasn’t gonna do anything serious, I-”

“That’s what you said last time, Newt!” Thomas scared himself with his own increase in vocal volume. He closed his eyes to regain his composure and pressed his forehead against Newt’s. “I’m sorry,” His voice lowered again. “I just - I can’t lose you, Newt. I can’t do it.”

“I know,” Newt whispered. “I know. You’re not going to.” Thomas brushed his nose against Newt’s jawline affectionately, and placed a delicate kiss behind his ear.

“I love you,” Came Thomas’ voice.

“I love you, too,” An accented reply.

“Please tell me next time,”

“I will, I’m sorry,”

They sat in silence for quite some time. Thomas praised the warmth that Newt’s breath held as it grazed over his bare skin.

Many minutes passed without a word, until Thomas felt his curiosity outweigh the risk of Newt’s response.

“How long has it been?” Thomas mumbled. Newt took long enough to muster the strength to reply that Thomas had begun to think he hadn’t heard the question.

“Since what?”

“You know what.”

Newt did know. He knew all too well. What he didn’t know, however, was if he would be able to admit it to Thomas. The brunet sensed Newt’s hesitation on the subject, so he brushed his lips against Newt’s cheek and nuzzled into Newt’s sandy hair in a way that held _take your time, whatever the answer is - it’s okay,_ and _I love you_ all in one. Newt sighed, somehow finding his words.

“Uh - a week, I think.” Newt tried, but Thomas saw through him like cellophane.

“Newt.” Thomas pressed.

“Three days. It’s been three days.” Newt said, his voice fragile as if his own words could shatter himself as well as Thomas.

“Can I see?” Thomas asked, and the look in the blond’s eyes told him that was the last question that wanted to be heard. Newt obliged, though. He even untangled his limbs from his boyfriend and sat up completely first, crossing his legs under him as he turned toward Thomas again, who was already bringing himself to sitting as well. The dim light from the storm-hidden sun was all that illuminated the room, but it was enough. Newt stuck his wrists out. He wouldn’t meet Thomas’ gaze.

An audibly sharp intake of breath pressed in Thomas’ lungs. He reached a hand out and delicately fluttered his fingertips over the scarred skin. Thin, deteriorating lines marked as far up as Newt’s forearms, and the freshest ones stood out with a harsh red contrast against the older, whitening gashes. Thomas swore he could hear his own heart breaking. Newt noticed.

“I’m sorry,” Newt attempted to console, but his voice gave up on him halfway through his words, forcing a whisper to drape his colloquy.

“It’s okay, Newt,” Thomas brought the worse of Newt’s wrists - the left one - to his mouth and gently kissed the self-inflicted injuries. “It’s okay.”

Newt couldn’t take the tormented look suspended on Thomas’ face, but even more than that, he couldn’t take knowing that he’d caused it. It was only a matter of moments before Newt’s shoulders slumped in shame and a guilty sob shook his body. It didn’t go unnoticed.

“Hey, hey, hey, c’mere,” Thomas dropped his fingers from Newt’s wrist and moved his hands swiftly to the older boy’s waist, tugging his hips lightly. Newt understood immediately. He shuffled forward, shifting his legs from underneath him as to sit - awkwardly, due to the dip in the bed - on Thomas’ lap. He hooked his legs around Thomas’ lower back and his arms around Thomas’ neck, in which he also buried his tearful face. Newt almost felt bad about the probably painful vice grip he had on the back of Thomas’ hair, but his boyfriend didn’t seem to mind. Newt took comfort in the warmth that dispersed along his skin from where Thomas’ arms were pressed to his back.

“I’m s-sorry, Tommy.” Newt’s words were mangled into choked sobs as he cried into Thomas.

“For what, doll?” Thomas inquired, ghosting his fingertips through Newt’s hair with the hand that wasn’t occupied with rubbing calming circles into Newt’s skin.

“Everything!” Newt wailed, his chest shaking.

“What do you mean, Newt?” Thomas mumbled into Newt’s shoulder before pressing a reassuring kiss to the side of his neck.

“I’m sorry that I cut myself off so much. I’m sorry that so many things are wrong with me and I’m sorry that I’m _so fucking sad_ all the time. I’m sorry that I can’t go a fucking week without tearing my skin open. I’m sorry you haven’t realized that you deserve someone so much better than me.” Newt rambled, apologies slurring together with the shaky breaths that were taken in between sobs. Thomas blinked once. Twice.

“Newt, look at me.” Thomas leaned back the shortest distance he could in order to meet Newt’s eyes once the blond lifted his despaired face from Thomas’ neck. “You have nothing to apologise for. It’s not your fault, none of it is. How you feel and what you do to yourself to deal with it hurts me, of course it does, but it’s out of my hands, and most of the time it’s out of yours as well! All we can really do is hope that you’re better some day. I don’t blame you for a thing, love. And you know what else?”

“What?” Newt’s sobs had slowed to short intervals of sniffles.

“I bet you everything that I could scour the world for the rest of my life, and I would never find someone better than you in my eyes. I love you, Newt. I really do. More than I think you’ve ever loved yourself. I just hope it’s enough to keep you alive.”

“So do I.” Newt smiled for the first time in days. It wasn’t much; a small incline in the corners of his mouth, but it was a victory to Thomas anyway.

The dark haired boy brought a hand comfortingly to Newt’s cheek before dipping down and catching their lips in a soft kiss. It made Newt feel warm inside - a prominent contrast to the bitterly cold air lingering in the room - and he felt his chest surge with indescribable affection for Thomas. The way Thomas kissed him told Newt the feeling was mutual. Newt inched back minisculely to speak.

“Hey, Tommy?” He mumbled against Thomas’ lips.  

“Hmm?”

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For loving me.” Newt’s voice was finally laced with some degree of contentness to replace the melancholy air it held earlier. Thomas beamed. The only reply that seemed necessary was conveyed through the brunet brushing his mouth against Newt’s again, delicately at first, before kissing him fully, somehow longer and sweeter than the last.

Later that night, Newt fell asleep with a smile on his face and his boyfriend wrapped around him.

 

***

 

The next morning, Newt awoke to a slip of paper telling him that Thomas had gone to make Newt’s sister breakfast. The clock on his phone read 9:37 AM.

As he walked through the halls to the kitchen, he could already hear the bickering voices of his two favourite people in the world.

“I’m telling you, the second _Harry Potter_ book is way better than the third.” Thomas scoffed, and Newt could hear how full his mouth was with food as he spoke.

“No way! _The Prisoner of Azkaban_ beats _The Chamber of Secrets_ any day.” Newt’s sister sounded genuinely offended by Thomas’ order of book ranking. Newt smiled a bit and shook his head.

“Personally, I like the fourth one the best. Though _The Half-Blood Prince_ is very well put together also.” Newt chimed in, casually stepping through the doorway as if he hadn’t just left his room for the first time in two days. His sister almost dropped her plate of eggs and toast at the sight of him, and she scrambled to set it on the coffee table before springing out of her seat next to Thomas on the couch.

“Newtie!” She yelled, rushing toward him and hugging tightly around as far up on his waist as she could reach.

“Hi, sweetheart.” Newt laughed, bending over to engulf her in a proper hug.

“Are you feeling better?” She asked excitedly, though his presence alone held the answer.

“Much. I’m sorry I yelled at you yesterday.” He pulled back to look at her in order to ensure she knew he was being sincere.

“It’s okay, Newtie. I’m just glad you’re not sad anymore.” She skipped back to her seat and patted a spot next to her, signaling for Newt to sit down.

“Well I definitely wouldn’t say that, but I’m managing,” Newt sat himself between his sister and his boyfriend. “Thanks to you.” He grinned at Thomas.

“I’m glad.” Thomas returned the smile, dusting a hand over Newt’s jaw and kissing him swiftly.

“ _Eww!_ ” The young girl squealed, scrunching her nose up in disgust. Newt and Thomas laughed, but a light pink tint brushed over Newt’s neck and cheeks.

Newt felt his stomach turn with flickering waves of happiness to be there with Thomas and his sister, and it was then that he decided that if he couldn’t stay alive for himself, he would do everything he could to stay alive for them.

 

 


End file.
